


Enjoy The Silence

by dametokillfor



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sometimes I shouldn't write words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dametokillfor/pseuds/dametokillfor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which stealing something Clint holds dear endears Loki to SHIELD's doctors and Coulson. </p>
<p>Or "The One Where Vee OBSESSES Over The Fact Hawkeye Hasn't Spoken A Single Word In Any Trailer Yet And Sleep Deprivation Creates Reasons".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enjoy The Silence

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's the thing. In all the trailers for The Avengers so far, Clint has been silent. This just didn't sit well with me and about 2AM one morning, this idea popped into my head. I figure, hey, quick 500 word ficlet, sleep, work, get over it!
> 
> Four days and 3000 words later, this emerged. 
> 
> Woops.
> 
> Also, it was supposed to be a gen/non-pairing fic, but apparently my Clint/Natasha shipper heart refused and they're sort of on the fringes of this. Woops. I like to think it's just subtle enough to be ignored though should that not be your thing.
> 
> I can't apologize enough!

_This isn’t fair_ , Clint thinks, as another SHIELD doctor shines a flashlight down his throat, before writing in her illegible scrawl something which Clint is pretty certain includes the words ‘five hours, no change’, though it could as easily be ‘five hampers, no cheese’. 

She tucks the pen in the pocket of her lab coat, places the clipboard down and turns to look at Clint with an almost convincing serious expression on her face. He can see the amusement in her eyes, the tiny smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“You need to stop pissing off Loki.”

Clint opens his mouth to reply, _and everyone needs to stop finding this so funny_ , but nothing comes out. Not even a whisper. 

The young doctor grins widely, “Oh, or not. This is bliss. I almost want to send him a muffin basket.”

She turns and walks away. Clint can’t help but wonder how long it will take her to find the pen cap he’s expertly launched into the middle of her messy bun. Probably less time than it’ll take her to find the paperclips.

He huffs silently and gets up from the cot, ready to leave medical and shoot something or drop on some unsuspecting coffee jockey. He doesn’t get more than a foot away before he feels the clamp of cold metal around his wrist and looks back to see the handcuff Coulson had attached to him when he first arrived here. 

He drops back onto the bed with a sigh, that is in no way a huff.

-x-

The day had started out as most had since Clint had been recruited to the Initiative.

Tony had been sarcastic and Steve had been disapproving. Bruce had been studying and Thor had been _Thor_. Clint had been talking with Natasha, loudly taking bets on just how long it would be before Steve and Tony just gave in to the burning sexual tension that imbued their every word to one another. Steve had choked on air; Tony had put a subsidiary of Stark Enterprises on three days. 

Mid-way through Clint deciding what to rename his new company – it would take Stark _at least_ a week - Coulson had called them to arms. There was a group of exceptionally well-regimented cats attacking civilians in the city, their eyes glowing a vivid electric blue. A tall man in an extravagant horned helmet, with a glowing blue staff had been spotted amid them.

Loki. 

The Avengers were expected to go in, take Loki down and try not to harm any of the animals. The last thing they needed was a smear campaign from PETA and _no thank you, Stark, posing naked for them will not solve the problem._

(Clint was certain the order not to harm the animals came from Coulson secretly being a cat person. Like most felines Clint has encountered, the agent’s priorities seem to be eating, sleeping, being sneaky and glaring disapprovingly at him. He’d earned another disapproving glare for sharing that opinion with Coulson).

The battle that had followed had been one of the more _unusual_ ones Clint had ever been a part of.

Iron Man had used his repulsor beams as giant sized lasers to distract the animals – apparently even mind controlled cats fell for that trick - while the others concentrated on taking Loki down. Cap and Thor had taken on the animals that weren’t enamoured by the light, holding them back as best they could without hurting them. Hulk was the distraction, keeping Loki occupied by attacking him outright while both Hawkeye and Black Widow had used their black ops training to get the drop on him. 

Clint had taken up residence in one of the hastily abandoned office blocks; Widow was on the ground, trying to get at Loki from behind. She was their first line of attack; he was there to back her up. 

Things were going just fine; she was seconds away from a sweeping kick to the legs, which would have knocked him to the floor. Before he’d be able to recover, she’d have wrenched the staff away and there would be a blade inserted somewhere that even gods would find painful. They hadn’t counted on Loki realizing she was there, spinning round in a whirl of leather and grabbing her by the throat. 

“Tasha!”

Clint didn’t even need to think about what to do. Before Loki’s hand could tighten even the slightest amount, he’d sent an arrow sailing into his chest, causing him to drop Natasha in surprise. The god had spun around, looked straight at Clint and raised his staff before Clint could send off another arrow. The last thing Clint saw was glowing blue energy flying from the end of the staff. 

-x-

The next thing he remembered was waking up in the medical bay, his wrist cuffed to the cot he was laid on, with Coulson standing over him. 

_If you’d wanted to cuff me to a bed, sir, you could have just asked_ , he’d quipped.

It took him a moment to realise no sound had actually come out. He tried again, tried coughing to clear his throat, nothing but a silent puff of air. Clint had looked pleadingly up at Coulson, _what have you done to me? Where’s Natasha?_

“Agent Romanov is fine.” Coulson informed him, “ _You_ aren’t. It looks like Loki has stolen your voice. Stark and Banner are working on it.”

Coulson almost smiled then, because Coulson only ever _almost smiles_ , “I told them not to hurry.”

 

Clint lifts the hand with the cuff on then. _And this?_

“Precautionary measure.” Coulson explained, “For some wild reason, I don’t trust you not to use your new affliction to torment the junior agents.”

_Damn._

Clint knows the thought wouldn’t have entered his mind until Coulson so cruelly put the idea there and stole it from him in one fell swoop.

Coulson so isn’t his friend anymore. 

-x-

Natasha had visited him after Coulson had left. Aside from a small cut across her cheek from where she’d fallen after Loki had dropped her, she was unscathed, which made him feel slightly better about his predicament. 

Only slightly. 

She’d brought all the paperwork Clint had been dodging for the past few months with her. That was enough to make him wish she had at least singed her hair. A big old bald spot right at the back of all that gorgeous, red hair. 

The punch in the arm he’d received had reminded him that, like Coulson, she could lip read and he was talking ‘out loud’. So to speak. 

Natasha being around was a comfort for a while; it gave Clint the chance to be his brilliant, sarcastic, absolutely hilarious and charming self for a spell and almost made him forget that he couldn’t speak. A fact he quickly remembered when the young SHIELD doctor came in and informed Natasha that she needed to leave so Clint could _rest his voice_. 

That was when he’d started throwing things into her hair. 

It was only with hindsight that he realised maybe he should have used to paperclips he’d thrown as make shift lock picks to get out of the cuffs. He’d spent an hour rummaging through the excess of paperwork on his bed in an attempt to find another but nothing had come of it. 

He hated staples. 

-x-

Four hours and a wealth of missed opportunities later; Clint was still no closer to regaining his voice.

Just as Clint is contemplating breaking his thumb bone so he can slip out of the cuffs – because paperwork is never an option - Bruce comes in, face a mix of apologetic and irritated.

“Stark.” Bruce explains, seeing the quizzical look on Clint’s face, “insists on helping, and then spends all his time stabbing me with exposed wiring.”

Clint in no way finds this hilarious. 

“The short of it is, Clint, we don’t know what Loki’s done.”

Clint really doesn’t find this hilarious. He absolutely does not huff for a long moment before an idea hits him.

_Thor?_ He mouths. Bruce looks blankly at him. 

Clint starts miming a hammer, flowing hair, big bulging biceps. 

“Oh, Thor!” 

Clint touches his nose and nods.

“We… didn’t think of that.” Bruce admits sheepishly, “I’ll go and talk to him.”

Clint pats him on the back, shoos him away. Bruce rushes out, a new spring in his step.

Clint is pretty certain Tony will taze it out of him. 

As long as he can hear himself laughing at it, he’s also pretty certain he doesn’t care.

Anyway, Hulk likes Clint, so he figures he’s safe from the smashing. 

-x-

Not long after Bruce had left, the team assembled in Clint’s room, figuring he could do with the company. It only takes three minutes before Clint wishes they hadn’t been so kind. Without being able to respond to Tony’s sharp remarks, _it’s torture_. 

Natasha soon shuts Tony up with a hand over his mouth. She nods to Thor, tells him to explain what he thinks is going on.

Thor tells them that Loki has pulled this trick before, stealing the voice of a great warrior so he couldn’t call his troops to battle. 

Tony has somehow got Natasha’s hand free from his mouth, judging by the way that she wipes her hand on his shirt; it looks like he actually _licked her_. There’s murder in her eyes. Clint wouldn’t be surprised if Tony woke up next to his dismembered tongue in the morning, with a bow and a card.

“Then why did he steal Clint’s?”

Clint really hopes Tony wakes up next to his dismembered tongue in the morning.

Thor apologizes for his brother’s mischief and resolves to do whatever it takes to solve the problem. 

Clint pats his arm, _I understand, big guy, got a psychotic one of my own._

Thor slaps Clint's back, an awkward display of affection, and sends the archer flying off the cot.

-x-

Usually when Clint is stuck in medical, he never shuts up. If he’s not flirting with all the staff (male, female, that one alien they have), then he's singing something completely inappropriate. 

Food poisoning had been accompanied by It's All Coming Back To Me Now. An attack of sex pollen was accompanied by a rousing rendition of The Power of Love. (Then later, I Touch Myself). That one time a mind controlled Natasha had shot him, he serenaded her with You Give Love A Bad Name – he takes great delight in the knowledge that only he could do that and not get killed.

Now his traitorous mind has given him The Sound Of Silence as a theme and he can't even sing along. (He supposes it's better than Depeche Mode, because he is _not_ enjoying this).

It plays on his mind because Coulson is standing before him and he brought it up. He is the worst kind of babysitter. 

“You know, Barton, it’s refreshing to visit you in medical and not be greeted by a stanza of Desperado.” He quips.

Clint glares at him. It’s a good glare, one of Coulson’s favourites thrown right back him.

Clint would probably have stopped singing the song to Coulson long ago if the agent hadn’t let slip that he hated The Eagles. Because really, who hates The Eagles? (The Dude notwithstanding. Jeff Bridges gets a free pass for anything). 

“I thought you’d like to know Thor went to try and reason with Loki.” Coulson tells him, “They managed to destroy that pizza place you know I like.”

Oh, this isn’t going to end well.

“We’ve got him detained.”

_Loki?_ Clint mouths, a sudden feeling of relief washing over him. 

“Thor.”

Oh, that’s not good. 

“On an unrelated topic, we’re moving you to one of the cells. Dr Olsen has been complaining about the stationary she keeps finding in her hair.”

Oh. That’s even worse.

-x-

In the end, Clint almost appreciates a change of scenery after being stuck in the medical bay for however long it was. Now he’s in a cell, they’ve taken the cuffs off too, so that’s also helped to brighten his mood. He even manages to sleep a little while on the hard, metal bed in the room. When he comes to, Natasha is sitting on the end of the bed. 

_I could get used to waking up to this_ , he says with a winning smile. 

She rolls her eyes as he sits up. 

“They’re sending the team out after Loki.” She explains, “Thor’s being kept here, so are you.”

_Because a silent sniper is a danger?_

“And if you get injured or captured, we’d have no way of finding you.”

_Coulson or Fury?_ Clint asks. It’s one of the two; Natasha would want him on board. Or so he likes to think after six years working side by side. 

“Fury. Coulson wanted you with us, something about wanting to revel in radio silence for once.” Natasha says, with a half-smile, “His official reason, he knows as well as I do that you’d be able to handle yourself.”

Natasha looks on edge, there’s something bothering her. 

_Hey, Tasha, I’ll miss you too._ He says, trying to lighten the mood. 

She rolls her eyes again, before leaning in closer, as if imparting a secret. She hesitates, like sharing this is a sign of weakness.

“This is nothing we were ever trained for.” She says voice low and serious. She doesn’t have to say anymore. This Avengers thing is insane and she’s _scared_ and Clint’s not going to be there to back her up. 

Clint’s face turns serious for a moment, before his hand reaches across and takes Natasha’s. 

_Whatever it is, just pretend it’s Stark, should make causing it bodily harm that much easier._

There’s a ghost of a smile across her face. 

She squeezes his hand before getting to her feet, “Guess I better go save the world. Again.”

Clint watches as she leaves before flopping back on the small cot again. He doesn’t fall to sleep as easily this time. 

-x-

It’s a good number of hours later when there’s a loud disturbance heading towards his cell. He’s up on his feet instantly, arming himself with, well, his own bare fists. It’s a cell, they don’t really allow weapons in there and he is damn good with the hand to hand when he has to be. 

The area had been eerily quiet since Natasha had left him, SHIELD security cameras doing the work they don’t trust the guards with. He’d amused himself by breathing on the glass screen, which substituted for metal bars, and drawing obscene pictures in the condensation. When that got boring, he’d paced. There had been a lot of pacing. 

Now there’s a gaggle of loud noises coming towards his cell and Clint can’t exactly scream for help, which he absolutely wouldn’t do anyway.

It’s only when he hears a loud, booming voice above all the others that he realizes just who is coming for him. 

Thor reaches him first; armed with the staff Loki had zapped him with earlier that day (was it still the same day? He’s not even sure anymore).

“I bring good tidings, Hawkeye!” He announces.

Stark punches the code into the door and the group all pile into Clint’s cell. It’s only when they’re up close that he notices the cuts and bruises on them. Tony looks like he has stitches over his right eye, Bruce’s arm is bandaged up, Natasha’s lip is split and Thor’s hair is distinctly less full of life than usual. Steve, asshole that he is, still looks perfectly coiffed but at least has the decency to look a little guilty about it. 

“We know how to reverse Loki’s curse.” Bruce explains, nodding to the staff Thor holds, “And, um, well…”

Clint looks at him expectantly.

“You have to smash the rock.” Tony helpfully provides, “Banner seems to have an aversion to the word smash in this form.”

_That’s it?_ Clint yells, soundlessly, _Nobody thought of this before?_

“Well, there was no guarantee it wouldn’t make things worse.” Bruce offers, “You could have been silent forever.”

Clint holds his hands up. Okay, that definitely needed further investigation. He holds his hand out to Thor for the staff, which the blonde man hands over happily. Too happily. Someone needs to show him The Notebook, no grown man should smile quite so much.

“And don’t forget, Barton, the princess has to scream when she’s regained her voice to destroy the monsters for good.” Tony pipes up. 

Clint sneers at him, weighs up the feel of the staff in his hands, takes a moment to decide whether smashing it open on Tony’s head is a fair option. (Coulson would kill him, the amount of paperwork that one would generate). 

Instead he just gestures for everyone to move back and takes a swing at the wall. (The amount of paperwork Coulson will have to do for damage to SHIELD property is marginally less than unauthorised assassination. Besides, when he can speak again, he’ll miss not having someone to banter with). 

He’s about to make his big comeback when he notices the stone is still intact. Obviously. Because this couldn’t be easy.

“Swing and a miss!” Tony announces, gleefully, “Come on Barton, you swing like a girl.”

Natasha socks him in the side for that one. 

Clint tries again. And again. And no really, _what the hell is going on right now?_

Tony is nearly catatonic with laughter and it’s only because Thor steps in front of him at exactly the right time that Coulson is saved a week of forms. Thor catches the staff mid-swing.

“May I try, Hawkeye?” He asks, “This is not a weapon of Midgard. It may require extra force.”

And of course that explains everything. Clint lets go of the staff, steps aside to let Thor take a swing. Just as the enormous grunt Thor lets out with the effort makes Clint start thinking inappropriate thoughts about what the man must sound like in bed, there’s an unearthly loud crash and the entire cell is filled with the same blinding blue light that Clint was hit with the first time. 

As the light clears, everything looks normal. 

Clint smiles to himself and walks over to Tony. He’d been planning a big, snappy comeback for this moment, but seeing as how Stark had _asked_ for it.

He really hopes the ringing in Stark’s ears lasts.


End file.
